


you made a really deep cut (now we've got bad blood)

by vulpineTrickster



Series: A Knight and His Geek [6]
Category: Pocket Monsters: X & Y | Pokemon X & Y Versions
Genre: Angst, Betrayal, Break Up, Lovers To Enemies, M/M, Minor Violence, Secrets Exposed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-08
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-05-25 11:05:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6192595
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vulpineTrickster/pseuds/vulpineTrickster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How did it come to this? Yesterday, they were happy and in love. Now their love is shattered on the carpet, a broken memory.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of my Nee-chan's headcanon: 
> 
> And thus, TeamFlare!Wikstrom is born! Mwhahaha! 
> 
> This was gonna be a oneshot but my brain halted toward the end soooooo time to work on another chapter~
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or its franchise.
> 
> **_DO NOT COPY OR DUPLICATE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!!!!!_ **

Cassius’ apartment is quiet when Wikstrom enters. He frowns, recalling his lover’s plans to work from home today. 

“Cass?” he calls out, stepping further inside and locking the door behind him. No answer. 

All of the blinds are closed, blocking the setting sun. The kitchen is devoid of dirty dishes. The living room is tidy. There is no obscenely loud rock music blaring from the stereo. In the months he has known (and dated) Cassius, he has never seen the apartment this clean or silent. 

It unnerves the knight. 

Wikstrom makes a beeline for the bedroom and finds the door ajar. 

“Cass?” he tries again, holding back the worry in his voice. 

Pushing open the door, he sees Cassius standing in front of his desk with his back to the knight. The bedroom is dark with an open laptop as the only light source. 

Something cracks under his boots. Wikstrom glances down and discovers the broken remnants of a picture frame. The fractured glass distorts his and Cassius’ smiling faces. 

He leaves the frame where it is and approaches his lover in concern. 

“My love, are you—” 

A hard punch to the knight’s jaw cuts him off. Wikstrom stumbles back in surprise. Pain blooms across his jaw but he shakes it off given the current situation. 

“Cass, what—” 

“Shut up,” spits Cassius. The glow from the laptop casts an ominous light behind him. 

His lover has been angry before but it was nothing like this. Wikstrom searches his eyes and nothing but rage is reflected back. And all of it is directed at him. 

Cassius starts pacing, clenched hands at his sides. He looks tired in his rumpled t-shirt and jeans. Even in the dim lighting, the dark bags under his eyes are more pronounced. 

“I don’t understand,” he mutters. 

“Understand what, my love?” Wikstrom says slowly, not want to incur his lover’s wrath again. 

Cassius pauses mid-step and turns to glare at the knight. “You…” he takes a deep breath, shaking, “and Team Flare.” 

The knight instinctively stands a little straight. He steels his expression and looks at the technician directly in the eyes. “You are mistaken, Cassius. I have no connections to that dastardly group.” 

Cassius huffs a laugh; it sounds broken and sad. “Couple months back, this detective approached me with a job. He needed help with some surveillance or whatever, yo. 

“I was gonna turn it down ‘cause I really don’t do that shit but the money was good,” he explains, trying to keep his voice from cracking. “Wanted me look into Lysandre Labs to see if there was a connection with Team Flare.” 

Wikstrom looks away, dreading every word. 

“And, hell, what a fucking connection it was!” Cassius shouts. “Took me _hours_ to get through the security systems and firewalls but I struck gold, yo.” 

He snatches up a manila folder from his desk and waves it around. “It’s a list of Team Flare conspirators and guess whose name is below Lysandre’s.” 

Wikstrom does not need to. 

The incensed technician tosses the folder back on the tabletop and grits out, “Why…Why would you be with _them_?” 

“It is complicated, Cassius,” the knight calmly conveys, ignoring the bubbling ache in his chest. 

“How is _that_ a fucking reason?! Are they blackmailing you? Threatening you?” 

“You would not understand.” 

Wikstrom’s words just irritate the other man more. Cassius lunges forward, grabbing the knight’s shirt collar with both hands. 

“Then make me understand, damn it!” he shouts in his face. “You’re too good a person to pull this crap! Just fucking _tell me_ —” 

Wikstrom forcefully shoves the technician away. Cassius hits the desk hard and crumples to the floor; he hisses when his shoulder hit the corner. When he recovers, he looks up to find the knight cruelly staring down at him. 

“Do not tell me what to do. Nothing gives you that right.” 

Fear grabs Cassius’ heart because never has Wikstrom looked at him like this, like he is the scum at the bottom of his boots. No, it feels worse than that. 

It is like he is insignificant, worthless, _nothing_. 

How did it come to this? Yesterday, they were happy and in love. Now their love is shattered on the carpet, a broken memory. There were never any signs or was he too blind to see them? 

Cassius’ stomach churns. He bites back the rising bile and fails, lurching to the side to vomit up what little food was leftover from breakfast. 

A flicker of concern flashes over Wikstrom’s eyes. He takes a half step before realizing what he is doing and freezes, slipping his mask back on. 

Cassius dry-heaves a few times, shuddering from the bitter tang left in his mouth. He takes a calming breath and stands on shaky legs, narrowing his eyes at the knight. 

“What’re you gonna do now? Get rid of me to keep all this quiet, yo? It’ll royally suck if everyone finds out their perfect knight is a dirty fucking traitor.” 

Wikstrom stiffens. “My orders—” 

Fury rises in the technician’s chest and explodes. “ _Orders?_ Was I part of some fucking mission?!” Cassius reaches for the closest thing on his desk—a mug inscribed with ‘Please wait…sarcasm is loading’ and a whimsical half-filled bar underneath—and hurls it at the knight’s head. 

Wikstrom sidesteps, letting the mug explode into tiny ceramic pieces on the wall behind him, but it opens him up for another punch from the enraged man. This time draws blood when Wikstrom’s incisor cuts his bottom lip. With Cassius putting all of his weight into it, both men crash into a dresser. The furniture shakes and something cracks. He pulls his arm back, readying a third punch, until Wikstrom roughly jabs him in the side. 

Cassius stumbles back, coughing, yet he is not deterred. “Is that all you got, yo? Big bad knight like you?” 

Wikstrom clenches his fists, his pride attacked. He throws a punch and a sickening thrill rushes through him when his fist connects with the technician’s temple. 

Spots cloud his vision but Cassius shakes the dizziness away and lunges again, grabbing the knight’s arm and throws him to the floor. 

Wikstrom lands with a grunt. He kicks the technician, putting him off balance. 

Cassius sways and lets out a pained yelp. The broken mug pieces cut his feet, staining the carpet in blood. 

With Cassius distracted, the knight drags him to the floor. He manages to grab a flailing fist while his other hand wraps around his throat and squeezes. Cassius jerks under him, gasping, and delivers a fierce uppercut. Wikstrom’s head snaps back, his grip loosening. Blood fills his mouth after biting his tongue. 

The technician shoves the other man, rolling him to his back. Straddling him, Cassius repeatedly punches the traitor’s face. Like a floodgate, his anger overwhelms him and cannot bring himself to stop. Cassius’ feet sting, his knuckles burn, there is blood on his hands, but he keeps going, cursing until he is red-faced. A beat later, fat tears trail down his flushed cheeks and he starts to sob. His body goes slack, his bravado fading. 

“Did you even love me?” he chokes, voice heavy with emotion. 

Bloody and dazed, Wikstrom rasps one heartbreaking word. 

“No.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything is fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The rest of Chapter 2 isn't done yet so I split it up. I'm happy with how this part turned out and decided to post it for the time being until the next part is completed.
> 
> ( My muse is being uncooperative OTL )
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Pokémon or its franchise.
> 
>  
> 
> **  
> _DO NOT COPY OR DUPLICATE WITHOUT MY PERMISSION!!!!!_  
>  **
> 
> * * *

First week, Cassius does not show up for work, emailing his assistants he is taking some personal time. The twins assume their boss went on an impromptu romantic adventure with his boyfriend. 

Second week, he comes in with rumpled clothes (the black turtleneck is new) sans leather jacket, a beanie pulled down to his eyebrows, and fingerless gloves covering his hands. There are dark bags under his eyes and his skin is paler than normal with dark stubble decorating his cheeks. He is favoring a shoulder and his footsteps are careful instead of his usual stomping swagger. His desk is devoid of everything except for his laptop. Cassius does not smile. 

(When she arrives for her shift, Bernadette notes the changes and asks if he’s alright. Cassius waves her off and retreats into his work. Later that day, she finds a framed photo of him and Wikstrom stuffed under a bunch of crumpled papers when she takes out the trash.) 

Third week, he starts acting like himself again albeit slightly. He cracks jokes and eats copious amounts of take-out food. A brand-new jacket is strewn over the back of his chair; today is a navy turtleneck. 

(The twins inquire about Wikstrom one afternoon and Cassius storms out, slamming the door behind him. He takes the rest of the day and the next one off.) 

Fourth week, Cassius adopts a Growlithe from a breeder friend of Georgette’s. 

(After offering up a business card, Georgette questions why since her boss often said in the past he can barely care for himself most days, much less a Pokémon. Shirking her concern, Cassius takes the card and leaves it at that.) 

The Growlithe is a girl and the cutest bundle of joy. Cassius names her ‘Rory’. She wears a pretty pink bow, her food and water bowls have flames painted on them, and she loves belly-rubs. Cassius takes Rory everywhere, never keeping her in a Pokéball; she is such a well-behaved Pokémon, no one ever complains. Bernadette and Georgette buy a doggy bed of the finest quality and a basket full of toys to keep at the office for her. When Serena visits, Cassius asks for her advice to help train Rory. The blonde trainer is all too eager to assist, rattling off the regimen she used for Heatwave, her Arcanine who has studiously taken the young Pokémon under his paw. 

Two more weeks pass and Cassius is smiling again, bright and happy. He is healthier and clean-shaven, no more dark bags and sickly pallor; the beanie and turtlenecks are gone too. His desk is cluttered with photos of Rory, colorful Post-It notes, and empty fast-food containers. 

Everything is fine.

**Author's Note:**

> ~~I am so sorry, Nee-chan~~


End file.
